Coming Down
by le petit lionne
Summary: Their friendship knew no bounds. Their friendship shattered the boundaries. Martha/10 Martha/11 [The rating changed from T to M for later chapters]
1. Coming Down

**Hey guys! I'm back. This is just a short filler; A kind of stream-of-consciousness thing that sparked in the middle of homework. Hope you like it!**

**Set after ****_The Angels Take Manhattan._**** It was on its way to being a ****Rated M**** production, but as I stated writing, the mood just didn't right for it. Maybe I'll add another chapter or something but for now, this is it.**

**Oh! And I don't own anything. Blah, blah blah.. Please don't sue me. This story is VERY Loosely based on the song Coming Down by The Weeknd- which I don't own.**

**Enjoy!**

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**Coming Down**

2:28 am

He was never very considerate of universal time zones. But he called her, as he always did in these situations and she answered on the second ring, as she always did when he called in the wee hours of the morning. It had been this way for the last 7 years. No matter what the date, the time of day, the occasion: he called, she came and vice versa.

He was married now; aborted timelines mean nothing to time travelers; they always remember anyway. She was married too, of course. Had been for 5 years and happily so.

Tom knew. But he never complained. He knew she wouldn't budge and it wasn't worth the argument. And the bigger picture outweighed the jealousy that bubbled and brewed inside of him whenever she picked up that call: the price he had to pay was nothing compared to what he'd been given in return. The opportunity to live.

Their situation wasn't ideal, but it's what worked. And she'd rather it be her. Apparently, so did the Doctor.

So when that phone rang, Martha answered.

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4:37 am

Martha glanced down at the small scrap of paper where she'd scribbled the information down in sleepy haste. It would make way too much sense to always pick the same hotel, she thought to herself. She'd never get used to these American streets. She left her car with the valet, and walked to the front desk.

"Hello there. Mrs. Smith. My husband should be joining me shortly." The receptionist handed her the key, informing her of the amenities of the Presidential Suite he'd chosen. Always the Presidential. She still found it funny how much she could tell about his complexes by the small decisions he made.

She still had another 20 minutes before he was to arrive, so she started her ritual. She stripped the bed of its sheets and replaced them with her own from her duffle bag. Same with the pillow cases. Once the bed was dressed to her liking, she showered and began to dress herself.

She could always tell what he wanted by his voice- he never had to tell her details. After a harrowing mission, he wanted her in a pink teddy and heels. If he'd lost control, leather and lace. Right now, she dressed in a cream silk nighty.

He'd just lost someone.

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5:02 am

He didn't burst into the room in a ball of energy; he tapped on the door meekly before opening the door with his own key. She greeted him at the door, smiling a small sympathetic smile. His arms hung limply at his sides and he looked beaten down, but a small glimmer of light shown in his eyes when he saw her.

"Martha Jones, my doctor." He muttered affectionately as he shuffled in, wearing the agony of 1103 years on his face. She remained silent, but stood on her tip-toes and hugged her 'patient'. He was a bit shorter than his younger incarnation, but he still towered over her. When he slipped his arms around her tiny waist and hugged her, her feet didn't touch the floor. He hugged her hard, crushing her in his embrace. Martha didn't care- she embraced him with equal ferocity. It was what he needed. She felt the warm tears that fell as he buried his face in her neck like a child- she stroked his hair in consolation.

"They're gone," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Both of them are gone." The last word slipped away from him in a raspy whisper as his resolve gave way to waves of grief.

She took him by the hand and led him to the bed. He sat down and she stood before him, removing his dress coat from his shoulders, then his bowtie, followed by his boots. She systematically removed every item of clothing he had on with deft, warm fingers. He laid down on the lavender-scented sheets she put on the bed.

Martha turned off every light except for a small lamp by the bed, before climbing into the bed beside him, gently guiding his head to her shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her waist and laid his head on her shoulder as he told her the story, his eyes still full of tears. He always managed to talk so much while actually saying so little. This time, however, his words were measured- not wasting one syllable. Every breath was meaningful.

"Amy knew she could never see me again. And she did it anyway." His voice was almost a whisper by the time he was done. "Why did she do it, Martha?"

Martha spoke for the first time since he arrived, she was in tears as well. "Well, Doctor, we all do irrational things for the ones we love. In a sense, following Rory was the most rational thing she could've done. You're her best friend, but he's her husband. They promised forever." He was looking up at her now, as if he never considered the fact that forever didn't necessarily include him. "Besides," she began again, this time smiling through her tears. "She was happy in the end, wasn't she?"

A small smile crept onto his face. "Yes. Yes she was." He leaned up and kissed her cheek. "Thank you, Doctor Jones."

"You're welcome, Mr. Smith." She said as she turned off the light and snuggled in next to him under the lavender-scented sheets.

They both drifted into a comfortable sleep in each other's arms.

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**Done and done! maybe. What do you think: continue with some M rated fun or leave it as is? It's up to you guys. Thanks for reading!**


	2. Down and Out

**This was quite a surprise, I honestly didn't intend on adding to this one but..ehh, whatevs.**

**I should mention that this story is started as a Martha'leven, but this chapter includes a flashback of Martha'ten. Just to articulate what a longstanding situation this is.**

**I don't own these people... but I wish I did. Enjoy!**

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That night, as she held the Doctor in her arms, she dreamt of the night when their friendship shifted- how their twisted relationship came to be. Martha knew better than many that the first time with someone new wasn't always the best time. But for her, her first night with the Doctor was notable none the less. It was when their friendship changed forever.

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She put on a brave face. To her closest friends and family, to colleagues and bosses and acquaintances alike. To everyone who could possibly have the luxury of seeing her come apart at the seams, she put on her big-girl pants and said the obligatory, supportive spouse mantra:

"Of course, I'm happy for him."

"Yeah, it's going to be hard, but I'm glad he's going. He's saving lives."

"They need him a lot more than I do."

But that wasn't true. Not by a long shot. In truth, he had started his second tour in Africa less than a year after their wedding without consulting her, and she was positively boiling with emotions she couldn't even name. She hadn't been married for a year yet and he was already abandoning her. They'd pledged their love before God, so why did she feel like she was the only one committed?

She didn't need pity or kind words that didn't mean anything. She didn't need empty allowances for her to feel her feelings: the _'its ok's'_ and the_ 'you're entitled's'_. Martha Jones was a woman of science and she needed cold, hard facts from her closest friend.

She called him and he materialized before she even hung up the phone. Her choked sobs conveyed her urgency even through her words. "If you're not too busy", she'd said as he pressed her into his chest, stroking her hair. She still had her ear pressed to the receiver.

She'd vented and he listened silently until she was done. "You know you're being unreasonable." He told her after she'd calmed down. It was exactly what she needed: for someone to tell her that she was being batshit, out-of-control, bonkers.

"He _is_ saving lives over there and they _do_ need him more than you do."

The unabashed, non-judgmental facts from her intergalactic BFF. They'd long since gotten over unfounded jealousies and romances that never were- Time Lord insensitivities and human hyper-sensitivities- and just conceded to a closeness that neither one of them expected.

So as they sat on her couch eating chocolate biscuits and ice cream, she bared all and her explained how wrong she was.

"Doctor?" She stared up at the tall bespectacled alien with perfectly coiffed hair and maroon converse.

"Could you stay the night? I just need to lay next to someone tonight." Her first night away from her new husband- she wasn't sure that she was strong enough to endure it alone.

"Martha Jones, It would be my honor."

He took her hand and led her to her room. The Doctor stripped to his T-shirt and underwear, leaving a pool of blue cotton on the floor. He then undressed her to her knickers, removed his own T-shirt and pulled it over her head.

"There. All better." Said the now bare-chested Doctor as he wiped her tears away with his thumbs. She climbed into bed and drowned herself in the blankets as he climbed in behind her, wrapping a protective arm around her waist. But neither one of them slept. He kept a watchful gaze at the top of her head and she tried as hard as she could not to cry.

Finally, she couldn't hold it in anymore. It wasn't an audible cry, but he could feel her shake and shudder with sobs. He could only hold her tighter, feeling helpless against her wall of grief.

He felt her pain physically manifest itself within him, as if another heart, her heart, was growing in-between his beating two. He kissed the top of her head and rocked her gently. He then did the only thing that felt right: he turned her toward him and kissed away her tears. He planted his lips over the entirety of her face before landing them on her quivering ones. He wasn't put-off or discouraged that she didn't kiss back. After all, he hardly knew what he was doing with her; he was leading with his heart which was something he rarely did.

He placed another kiss on her lips as she stared at him, wide-eyed. This one was longer… slower... Coaxing. He moved so that he hovered her, silently requesting permission to continue. She responded by leaning up and kissing him softly. She needed this- this one reprieve from her heart-wrenching misery.

He lowered himself over her and deepened the kiss, feeling her pour all of her emotions into his mouth. He accepted, taking her burden as his own. She was no longer crying.

He didn't devour her hungrily, even as his desire to mount her grew. He simply poured his emotions out of himself the same way she did- exactly what emotion, he couldn't say. He didn't remove the shirt or knickers, but his need pressed against her ever moistening center. Finally, her fingers found his waistband and pulled down, his aching organ springing free, letting him know exactly what she wanted.

He moved her knickers to the side and entered her slowly, treating their first time together as if it was their first time ever.

She was tight... Tighter than he'd expected of a recently married woman. The way she squeezed him from the inside out let him know he was bigger than Tom; the way her body responded to him- arching and undulating against him, moaning encouragements in his ear as he continued to tenderly make love to her- let him know that he was better.

But he shook the thoughts from his mind: that's not what he was there for. Her pleasure was paramount, not his one-sided pissing contest.

She seemed to inhale him with her whole body. The tears she shed were ones of joy instead of sorrow. They came together in waves of sweaty ecstasy.

The backlash he expected from their lovemaking in her conjugal bed never came. Within minutes, Martha's small hands were roaming over his body once more. He took her again and again that night and well into the morning. Even when he was spent and had no more give, he continued to pleasure Martha, made insatiable by her distress.

When she finally collapsed into his chest as the sun rose, he promised that he'd come back to her as long as she needed him. She called him back every night that week and twice the next. Slowly the pain of her temporary loss subsided and a new door to their friendship opened.

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**Thanks for reading! Please review and feed my addiction!**

**xoxo, LPL**


	3. Man Down

**Before I do anything else, I would like to apologize for my initial posting of chapter 2. Typos and errors that come from not proof reading your shit can make even the best writer (not saying that I am) look like an asshole. So a very special apology to those who read that chapter before I fixed the major typos. If there's still more of them, please let me know. I'd like to give very special thanks to ****_Sheena is a Punk Rocker_****for being the first person to bring these errors to my attention. There's no reason for that to ever have happened.**

**To my ****_Matters of the Heart_****readers, I love that story, but I'm taking a hiatus. I've gotten a bit far from where I originally wanted it to go. It's like the opposite of writer's block. I just need some time to reevaluate where it's going. I'm still taking suggestions and whatnot, but I really just need to get concrete in what I really want that story to be.**

**This story was meant to be a one shot, but it's turning into this lively behemoth of a thing that I write in between chapters of other things. I am very happy that I was convinced to write more of this.**

**Finally, I don't own much in this life. Doctor Who and all of its little bits are some of those things that I don't own.**

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**Man Down**

On the third week, the sky went dark.

She sprang into action and before she knew it, Martha had an experimental teleportation device strapped to her back, Jack screaming at her on the phone, and the Osterhagen Key in her hand. She couldn't get in touch with the Doctor, which scared her more than she cared to admit. What had become of him? What would become of her planet?

Furthermore, and yet again, she would have to assume the role of the decider: would she be the Earth's defender or be the cause of its destruction? She clutched the cords in her small hands, closed her eyes, steadied her breathing, and pulled. In an instant, she disintegrated into a beam of bright, blue- white light.

* * *

If Jack's vortex manipulator was rough transport, Project Indigo had been downright Hellish. It wasn't that she was in one place and then sped to another- a motorbike through traffic, as it were. No, that would be too kind: Project Indigo tore apart her every molecule and dispersed them into the air, transporting them all individually and reconstituting them in the one place she wanted to be: her childhood home.

Hours later, she'd left her mum again. She was glad that she at least got to tell her mother she loved her before she was thrown into the fire again. Now she knew how Jack felt every time he was dragged back to life. Like Death itself. And now there was _this_.

You never knew how a frightened human would react. There's no element more unstable, more terrifying than someone faced with the risk of losing everything they held dear. That infernal year had taught her that. This woman who, given different circumstances, would probably have been sweet, grandmotherly even, was now pointing a gun right at her. Calling her the nightmare. Threatening to kill her.

"Then do it." It'd been a long time since Martha Jones had feared death.

"Zur Hoelle mit Dir."

"I know." It'd been a long time since Martha Jones had feared Hell, either.

After she addressed her fellow UNIT operatives, she then addressed the Daleks themselves. She knew the Doctor would be angry when he found out what the Key did, but what she didn't expect was that he wouldn't be alone in his captivity.

He tried to argue, now of all times, when the Universe was in danger. She snapped right back, as he knew she would, as she always did. If he wasn't available, then there really was no other foreseeable option. She'd seen the Earth burn once already but she also knew first hand that the universe, and reality itself, was bigger than her tiny planet. She had to look at the bigger picture.

"Oh, she's good." She didn't know the voice emanating from his left, but she knew it wasn't Donna. She had a clue when the blonde head dipped into the transmission's range, but when she introduced herself as "Rose. Rose Tyler." Martha's heart still dropped into the pit of her stomach. Even after all these years and everything they'd been through, she still felt threatened by the invisible Rose Tyler, made visible by, what she concluded must be some dimension piercing device. She kept her thoughts to herself, stating simply, "Oh my God. He finally found you." She felt a slight pang of relief when the Doctor didn't return the blonde's smile. Then she was pulled apart yet again, this time by the Dalek's transmat beam.

* * *

There were two Doctors. Well, three if you included Donna. Four if you included Martha- though she honestly didn't even let that thought cross her mind (well, maybe only once or twice). She still marveled at Time Lord Biology. After the dust had settled and the tow-rope was secured, the Doctor had announced that they could get the Earth home in less than a day. It was Martha, a woman of science, who suggested the Doctor take his time with her fragile Earth. "There are 6 billion people down there, countless life forms, and an already unstable atmosphere to take into consideration. Isn't there a way to... I don't know… minimize the damage?"

"Brilliant idea, Dr. Jones. Molto Bene! Three days then." The Doctor exclaimed, Rose's hand still glued to his. The blonde stuck to him like glue, but her eyes were on Martha in a sort of curious disdain. Martha stared at their hands, if only for a moment, remembering that it was just days before that he had been over her, on her, _in_ her.

She shook the thoughts away, only then noticing that someone was missing. Not conspicuously, because there was already one Doctor in the room, and they all knew that his energy was enough for the both of them. She crept from the crowded room, her excuse being that her molecules were still unstable from her three spatial jumps, and ran her fingers over the wall of the TARDIS, enlisting her help in finding the Doctor's duplicate.

The TARDIS led her, surprisingly to her room. Though she couldn't see him, she knew where he was. She closed the doors behind her, and sat on her old bed, not letting on that she knew he was there. She knew he wouldn't leave anyway. She peeled off her black military uniform and walked to the shower of her personal bathroom- proceeding to wash the stress of day down the drain. She left the shower smelling of lavender. Her hair had been let loose. She sat on her bed, moisturized her skin and dressed in a cream-colored nighty.

Then she crawled under the bed. He stared at her, shocked, but she just looked up at the underside of her bed. "How'd you know I was here?" He asked after realizing that she wasn't going to start the conversation.

"This is where I'd have been. This is where I was. Well, not here. In my old room." She said taking his hand, but still not looking. "After the year, I couldn't sleep in a comfortable bed after spending so long sleeping on floors, in pits, underground, or in someone's basement. Hell, I hardly ever actually slept once I was back. The nightmares and all. So I laid under the bed; on that familiar, cold hardness that I was used to." She was so matter-of-fact that it was almost like she was talking about another person. But he knew better. He had all those memories. Those were the things that drove him under Martha's bed.

"It feels safe here, somehow." He said. "I don't know why. My new body and mind now have the time to acclimate to this… situation…" He rolled the word around in his mouth a bit, as if looking for something better to replace it with. He paused a minute, his singular heart now felt the weight of 900 years and the gravity of his current predicament of the singular life that awaited him once he left the comfort of Martha's floor and Martha's hand in his. She squeezed his hand and he let out a silent furious sob. He was breaking down.

"Humans. Dying from the day they're born. And now I'm one of them. I only have one life and I'm already half way through it." He spat. The words tasted sour on his tongue and he felt relieved to be rid of them. She knew he didn't mean to insult her and didn't take it as such. She hated seeing her best friend- or at least this rendition of him- so pained.

"Hey! That's no way to be. You can live a normal life- live the adventure _he_ never could. Wouldn't you like that?" She was aware of how hollow her encouragements sounded and she hated it. She knew the truth of her statement was that there was no truth in it. A sedentary life would kill him.

"Do you really thing that I could live that life? Knowing everything that I know? Living how I've lived? I'm not John Smith, Martha. I still have all those memories. I can't just … just _be_ for the next 50 years. 50 years _if I'm lucky_. And I can't stay here either. There's never been someone like me. There's no place for me." His voice had steadied but the pain was still there.

She considered him for a moment. What would he do? He didn't even have a proper name, let alone his own path. She rolled from under the bed and asked him to come with her. She led him to the infirmary, pulled on a lab coat, and excused herself. As she made her way to the kitchen, she saw Rose alone in the console room. She assumed that everyone else was already sleep. This situation was going to be more of a mess than anyone knew, she realized. Not even the Doctor.

She found the Doctor in the kitchen alone, thoughtfully nursing a glass of wine. She got two small glasses from the cabinet and opted for something a bit harder: whiskey.

"How is he? " He asked, the concern in his voice taking a back seat to something else she couldn't quite place.

"Not good. He feels like he's dying. For all intents and purposes, he is, in a way. He's coming to terms with the fact that he's reached the last decades of his life." She gave the floor tiles special attention as she remembered the man under the bed.

"Doctor… he needs someone, I think." The Doctor nodded but didn't meet her gaze. He clenched his jaw as if to say something, but he didn't. He just nodded. What should he have expected? She was always the first one to help, no matter what the cost. His duplicate _did_ need someone, and who better than Martha? But it wouldn't be her. It couldn't be. Somebody else already needed her: _Him_. But he didn't say that. He just nodded.

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The pair drank whiskey from the bottle, the glasses forgotten. She checked his heart and breathing and internal organs. She checked his reflexes and blood pressure, all while burning herself from the inside out with the honey hued liquid fire. They reminisced about the good ol' days.

"It's funny… the things you notice without a Time Lord consciousness getting in the way…" He slurred suddenly as he slipped from the examination table and lifted her up onto it. "Like what?" she said with a giggle. He had taken her stethoscope and listened to her heart. He listened to her heart and heard it speed up as his free hand drew lazy circle patterns on her bare leg.

Warmth. It was new to her. The Doctor's hands were always borderline arctic. _This_ Doctor's hands were almost fiery. Opposite. She began to notice the little things that made them different. The little tell-tale decisions that made him 'Not-the Doctor'. No tie, no dress shirt, even messier perfectly-messy hair, even more passion behind his young, bright eyes.

"Feelings. Emotions. They seem less foreign. I…he…we… Blimey! Now I have both tenses _and_ pronouns to deal with! Anyway, before, I had emotions, but it I was different. I experienced them in a sort of detached way until they hit too close to home. Profound sense of right and wrong, but little-to-no actual empathy." He paused to let her catch up. His words seemed to simultaneously make sense and contradict what she knew of him. Wasn't it his empathy that led him to her bed in the first place? Or was it one of those things that 'hit too close to home'? She hoped it was neither.

He continued. "But now, Martha Jones, I feel everything. Even something as simple and primal as arousal makes me feel as if my heart could give out at any moment. And yours," he said, now gripping her thighs. "Yours is downright intoxicating. Especially since I already have memories of tasting you." The whiskey had already gone to their heads. She was fuzzy and floating, but the sudden urgency of her need brought her back down and into his kiss. With a fleeting thought, she wondered if she should feel guilty, since it wasn't _Him._ Hell, neither one of them were her fiancé! She shook the thoughts away as he climb onto the examination table with her. He didn't even bother removing the cream silk nighty as his first therapy session with _his_ doctor began.

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**I think I quoted River in this one- about the vortex manipulator. I'm thinking about writing a River/11 angsty thing. Whatevs.**

**REVIEWS people! REVIEWS MAKE THE WORLD GO 'ROUND! Please keep my world turning. =]**

**xoxo, LPL**


	4. It All Falls Down

**What? WHAT?! Two chapters in one day? I'm on a roll...**

**Disclaimer: Same as the other 3 chapters. Enjoy and Review!**

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**It All Falls Down**

She awoke on the examination table, which was, she decided, not meant for more than one person. The warm body underneath her tossed and turned and sweated under her palm. Martha sat up and shook the nameless man until he woke up, wide-eyed and frightened. She led him, still in the haze of his nightmare, to her bedroom and laid him down. Turning off all of the lights except for one, Martha climbed into bed, covered them with her blankets, and cradled his head as he cried into her breast. He sobbed like a child and she knew that there was little else she could do for him.

She wasn't sure how long they stayed that way, but she continued to stroke his hair and rock him gently. He'd long since gone silent, so when he spoke, it came as a surprise.

"He's going to leave me with her." He said, his voice quiet and raspy from his spent emotions.

"What? Leave you where? With who?"

"Rose. I'm sure you figured out by now how she got here. And how _they_ got here. She's obviously too dangerous to stay here. And, in his mind, so am I."

She figured that however Rose had gotten here had led the Daleks here as well. Through talking to her, however briefly, she learned about the stars going out, the other dimensions collapsing and, subsequently, the dimension canon. Through her travels with the Doctor, Torchwood, and Unit, she knew about the non- linear relationship of cause to effect. Rose blasting holes through the dimensions could have definitely been the cause of the trans-dimensional collapse, making it easy for Davros and the Daleks to breach the Time Lock.

"You don't know that. You _saved_ this world. You're not a danger to it. Why do you think he'd exile you?"

"Because I have his mind. I _am_ him. And it's what he'd- what _I'd_ do. Besides, it's not _your_ world that I'm a threat to. It's his."

She didn't' understand the last part of his statement, but she didn't push. When he finally fell back asleep, she crept out of bed, grabbed her dressing gown and made her way to the kitchen.

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She always lost her perception of time in the TARDIS, but the smell of coffee let her know it was sometime around 8:00 am, relative time.

When she reached the kitchen, the Doctor was in the same position she'd seen him in the night before, nursing tea instead of wine. He hadn't slept. He held her mug out to her- the steaming cup made just the way she liked it.

"How did you know?"

"I know all of your little habits, Martha. All of you, really. And knowing all of you the way I do, I knew that you would be the first one up, and you'd need your coffee." He said with a light smile. She leaned with him against the counter as she heard others shuffling around the TARDIS, waking up in their own time.

"You know, he thinks you're going to take Rose back to the other dimension. He thinks you're going to leave him too." She hoped he was wrong. She was disappointed.

"Yeah… he'd be right."

"But why? Couldn't they just stay with you?" She figured by including Rose she'd have more of a chance of keeping the other Doctor here as well. She didn't know exactly why she wanted him to stay so badly, but she knew that the other dimension wasn't the only solution.

"They can't stay. She caused countless dimensions to collapse." He spat the words out in an angry whisper.

"And he," Now, he seemed to be grappling with the reason, as if he wasn't completely sold on it himself. "He committed genocide."

"The genocide of your most hated enemy! I'm not sure how that's a bad thing. Any being capable of unraveling reality shouldn't be allowed to continue living, should they? What was to stop them from trying it again if they were allowed to live?" Martha grew more and more angry. She couldn't believe he saw this as a bad thing.

"Martha, he was born out of war. All fire and brimstone and anger. Rose is still a good person. She did wonders for me. She can help him."

She heard people beginning to stir in the console room, so she dropped her voice down to a harsh whisper.

"I can't believe what I'm hearing! It's her fault, Doctor!" Had the situation been different, she might have laughed at their almost comical whisper-shouting match.

"If it wasn't for your little girlfriend poking holes in dimensions like a poor girl with a rich man's condom, none of us would be in this mess! I mean honestly, what 'Bad Wolves' have you ever known with good intentions? He didn't ask to be here and he doesn't want to be. The least you can do is give him a choice!

You can't punish him for her mistakes! He's a casualty of her selfishness. She can't help him and you know it. Yes, she helped bring you back to humanity after you lost it all, but she _can't_ teach him how to be human! They're two totally different things! After all she did to try and get here, what makes you think she'd be content in that other dimension? Let alone that she's stable enough to help him live like a normal person after 900 years."

She was fuming.

"This is not up for discussion, Martha. You wouldn't understand." He whisper-shouted back before turning his back to leave the kitchen.

"Then make me understand, Doctor. I'm not stupid and I'm not some naïve little girl who can't handle what you have to say. So stop treating me like that." She said as she followed him, adding quietly, "I thought we were past this."

He stopped in his tracks at the pain in her voice. He didn't mean to hurt her, especially not after all she'd been through.

"I'm sorry, Martha." He said sincerely, pulling her into one of their trademark huge hugs. She closed her eyes and inhaled his scent, noting one more difference between the two Doctors. He let her go, but his fingers lingered, trailing slowly down her arm to link his fingers with hers.

"It's just that he-"

"Good morning, Doctor!" Rose called from down the corridor. Martha steeled and pulled her fingers away. The Doctor exhaled, faltering at her reaction. He turned to Rose's candy-sweet greeting, but when he turned back Martha was gone: only a flash of a white dressing gown disappearing around the corner remained.

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The nameless Doctor slept for most of the day. Or at least he stayed away from the rest of the group. Martha straddled the fence between the two: trying to walk the line between being social with the other companions and watching over her 'patient'. Sometimes, she'd come in and he'd be sweating in his sleep. Other times, he'd be under the bed, sleeping peacefully.

This time he was awake, sitting on the edge of her bed. She'd brought him a sandwich and tea- no matter who or what he was, he still needed sustenance, she insisted. They sat in silence as he practically inhaled the food.

"Thank you." He said, in a near whisper. "Not just for last night. For everything. You've done so much for me… for us." She muttered that it was nothing, nervously chipping the nail polish from her fingernails. He- the real Doctor- was always that tender when they were alone, and she was always this nervous. He was a different man and he was still her best friend, but he also still had the ability to make her heart convulse with pure joy when he was so gentle with her. It was these uncharacteristically quiet times that she relished most.

"It's so much more than 'nothing,'" he replied with a soft, sad smile. "He may never say admit it. He may never tell you. He might not even realize it yet. But he loves you. He sees you and he loves you and he won't allow himself the luxury. But for that reason, he won't let me either. I'm not telling you this so you can hate him, or for you to try and convince him otherwise. You know how I am when my mind is made up. I'm telling you so that you understand. Because you deserve to know. And because I know that you're smart enough to comprehend what this means. You're too smart not to." He gazed at her lovingly while she stared back with wide eyes. She was caught in the headlights of his admission and the coincidence that this was the same conversation she'd been trying to have earlier with the real Doctor. She was positive that she wouldn't have gotten _this_ answer.

He was resigning himself to his fate and asking her to simply acknowledge what he was giving up, all for the sake of the other Doctor's sanity. In that moment, she realized, that this half-human Doctor had been stronger than his Time Lord counterpart. Just as John Smith had been when he'd chosen to die so the Doctor could live. This Doctor was graciously accepting his lot; exiled and earthbound with no chance of escape so the Doctor wouldn't have to share. Her Lonely God was trapped on Earth.

In an instant, her lips were on his. She'd launched herself at him and he caught her gracefully before taking her again in the comfort of her room.

* * *

**I updated again for you guys. I really do love all of my readers. Like even if you don't review, the simple fact that you took the time out to add it to your favorites, your alerts, or even to just simply read it, it makes me feel like dancing in a field of flowers. THAT's my high. Knowing that there was at least one person who thought this story was worth their time. Reviews are just the cherry on top of the brownie sundae. I write because I love it and because I really have something in these fleeting ideas that could possibly entertain someone. This chapter, and every chapter of anything that I ever write is dedicated to my readers- however many or few of you there are.**

**OK, enough with the mushiness. Nobody reads these anyway. =]**

**xoxo, LPL**


	5. Coming Together Falling Apart

**Hey guys! I'm back! Did you miss me? Because I've missed all of you!**

**Quick things: Just in case any of you cared, I'll be updating ****_Full Circle_**** shortly AND my hiatus from ****_Matters of the Heart_**** is just about over. YAY! Exciting things coming from LPL!**

**Disclaimer: I just do this for the thrill. I don't own anything and I'm doing it for free.**

* * *

**Coming Together. Falling Apart**

* * *

The third day, she woke up in the Doctor's arms. No, not the Doctor's arms. _His _arms. The other Doctor. And it was then that she thought about _him. _The other, _other _him. Tom. And she instantly felt the guilt that had been eluding her in her already-too-emotional rollercoaster.

He must have thought the world was ending. He didn't know about Unit or the Daleks or the Doctor, or traveling through time and space. The life she fed him had been a lie.

_An ex._

_He travelled the world._

_He introduced her to many different people._

_He broke her heart._

He knew 'John Smith': an old friend.

_They met during her residency at Royal Hope._

_He helped her get away from family drama._

_She helped him get over an ex._

_They saved each other._

Her relatively new husband was more than a bit jealous, she knew, but he'd kept quiet for her sake just as she stretched the truth for his.

* * *

Martha slipped out of bed and grabbed her phone from the bedside table. The other Doctor stirred, but didn't wake as she moved from his grasp. She wrapped herself in the plush robe and slippers and made her way towards the kitchen where, again, her favorite coffee was brewing. As she dialed to number she knew by heart, she prayed: Prayed for him to answer, to let her know that he was alright; Prayed for him not to answer so she wouldn't have to answer any tough questions.

He answered.

"Oh my God. Martha! Are you OK? What the hell is happening? Oh God." He sputtered through tears. She assured him of her safety and tried to calm his fear.

"I called Tish, and your mum. Neither one of them knew where you were. I thought… I thought-"

"I'm fine, Tom. I promise. I just wanted to see if you were ok."

"But wait. What were those things? You work for the government. Someone must know something, right? Or is everything very 'hush-hush'?" He rambled. "I promise. After I get everything settled here, help the injured and all, I'm coming home. I'm coming home to you, babe. I'll be on the first thing smoking. I'll take care of you. I love you, Martha."

Martha couldn't help but smile at the irony. If only he knew she'd been a part of the operation that helped save him. And she found it all the more endearing when he rambled. He was the most levelheaded person in her crazy, mixed up life but he rambled like a madman when he was nervous. He hardly even let her accept his marriage proposal, he'd talked so much. In a way, he reminded her of another rambling doctor.

"Ok, love. Can't wait. And we'll talk when you get home. Gotta go. I love you, too." She said rushing off of the phone as she entered the kitchen. The Doctor waited until she was finished to hand over the cup of hot, bitter liquid.

"The Missus?" He asked with a smirk.

"Stop it. I'm still very cross, you know."

"I know. And I'm sorry. I'd never want to… disappoint you. But they can't stay."

She looked at him incredulously. "Disappoint me? This shouldn't be abut disappointing me. Condemning him to another universe with Rose shouldn't be about _disappointing me._ It should be about right and wrong."

"Damn it, Martha! I'm trying to do the right thing!" He momentarily lost his cool. "Martha, I'm trying…." He said, turning away from her. "Now… get over here and help me make breakfast. Don't want to send you lot home on an empty stomach." He gave her a small, conceding smile though his eyes held none of their usual spark. Her anger broke and she helped him cook in companionable silence as the others woke up one by one. She never could stay mad at him for too long.

* * *

The last day, the other Doctor finally came out of hiding. He socialized with the other companions with a surprising lack of awkwardness, even more confident and gregarious than the original. He seemed more… human. He and Martha exchanged secret glances here and there, but said nothing. None of the others (with exception of The Doctor) knew what they'd been getting up to. None of them knew that, after today, they would see no more of him, either.

The Doctors and their companions ate breakfast as one big, happy family. Jack flirted, Donna flaunted her newfound abilities, and Mickey stared at Rose, who not-so-discretely placed her hand on top of The Doctor's over the table. Of course, everyone noticed. However, nobody noticed how The Doctor stiffened slightly as she threaded her fingers through his, nor how his eyes met Martha's over the vast expanse of the table. Martha was the first to look away from the awkward exchange. She suddenly felt pity for the younger girl, that she didn't know that her time in the TARDIS was short lived, and guilty that she hadn't told her. A beeping from the Console Room, brought her from her train of thought. The nameless Doctor noticed it too. The Earth was back where it belonged.

Everybody gathered what little belongings they had and said their various goodbyes. Their family reunion was at a close. Martha was the last of the Earthlings to leave the TARDIS, hugging Rose and her mother, wishing them well. Then Donna, checking her temperature when she complained of a migraine.

"You're burning up, but I don't know if that's normal." she commented. "Maybe you need to rest."

"Maybe you're right. Haven't had much of that with Captain Jack lurking about, have I?" The women shared a laugh and Martha promised they'd have a girl's night soon. Donna just granted her a small, sad smile in return.

The nameless Doctor came next. As she turned to hug him, he pulled her close, kissing her deeply in front of Rose, Jackie, and The Doctor, effectively taking her breath away. She kissed him back with equal fervor, throwing her arms around his neck. He wiped away the single tear as it dripped down her cheek.

"There, there, Dr. Jones. There'll be none of that. Besides, we all know it's for the best. I'll be ok." She kept her thoughts to herself as she stepped away from him. She knew there had to be another way, but neither one of them had tried. He pulled her close again, leaning down to whisper in her ear. "Please don't be too hard on him. He's really going to need you later." He added, grinning against her neck, "The cream one will do nicely."

Though she was confused by the last statement, she turned to leave anyway, not able to stay in the console room any longer. She was afraid she might burst with the sorrow she felt building inside of her. She gave The Doctor a quick hug and walked through the door where, to her surprise, Jack and Mickey were waiting to walk her home.

* * *

Finally back home in her flat, she immediately fell into her bed. After calling her mum and receiving a verbal lashing for not checking in ("Well, I already knew that you were OK, mum. And I trained the rest of you in hostile alien protocol myself") She fell into a cleansing slumber. Waking up 7 hours later, she showered quickly and proceeded to unpack the small bag that had once housed Project Indigo. Inside, nestled in with the rest of her things, was the cream nighty that had soothed the other Doctor. _'The cream one will do nicely,' _he'd said. It still smelled like her favorite Lavender body cream, and Martha couldn't help but smile as she slipped it on.

Only a few minutes later, the _whoosh _of the TARDIS filled the room. He was out the doors and in Martha's arms before the old girl had even fully materialized. He didn't speak but he openly sobbed into her neck. She hadn't seen him this distraught since The Master's death. But his racking sobs alarmed her. She led him to the bed as his legs seemed to give out under him, and proceeded to slowly, methodically undress him. His suit jacket, shirt, tie, pants, socks were all removed before she laid him down and tucked him in, as a mother would a child.

She wiped away his tears and ran her fingers through his hair until he calmed enough to speak. She pulled his head over to rest on her shoulder as she attempted to calm his shuddering sobs. He told her about Donna, how she wouldn't remember him, couldn't remember him or anything that she'd done. To do so would mean eminent, painful death. Martha let him pour out all of his emotions, all of his guilt, pain, anger and utter sadness, and soon began sobbing herself. They clung to each other in the complete darkness of her room, enveloped by cream silk and the soothing lavender scent, mourning Donna Noble.

* * *

**I hope you guys are catching on to the pattern that I'm setting up here. I set it up in the first chapter, but I know things can get lost as the story progresses. The outfit she wears denotes his mood. This flashback was the beginning of that with her having to soothe the two Doctors respectively, both finding something soothing about the cream silk nighty and the scent of lavender. (Therefore, from here on out in their friend/lover-ship, whenever he's feeling a profound loss of some sort, those particular things are associated with making him better.) Same goes with the other outfits I mentioned, which will make their appearances later on.**

**Also, keep in mind that this has been just one (super long) flashback of Martha's. The next chapter will probably be the beginning of something else. **

**I'm sure I didn't need to spell that out for you smart people out there. I did that more so for me, that way I know that I'vee made it clear for everyone.**

**PLEASE review (and criticize if you must). I welcome it all! Reviews are butter to my bread, the cookie to my milk, the PB to my J. Get where I'm going with this?**

**xoxo, LPL**


	6. Bring Me Back To Life

**Hey guys! Here's the next installment! I know it's been a while but I haven't forgotten about you.**

**VERY IMPORTANT:**** I know this thing started ages ago, but remember, the last few chapters were a FLASHBACK of Martha's about when their relationship first changed. These next few chapters are a DIFFERENT FLASHBACK of the Doctor's. If you head right into this chapter without knowing this information, it'll be confusing. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Bring Me Back To Life**

* * *

The engines were phasing and the climb up from the pool had been taxing to say the least. He pulled the red leveler and the TARDIS shifted roughly into the upright position. As he got to his feet, the TARDIS groaned.

"I know, sweetheart, I know. I'll make everything better. But you have _got_ to stop fighting me." He stroked the console lovingly before swinging into his familiar dance around the console and the TARDIS dematerialized from the young girl's front yard.

_…Amelia Pond… like a name from a fairytale…_

"Right! Five minute hop into the future."

As he pumped the Helmic regulator, his beloved ship shuddered and dropped sickeningly from the vortex.

"No, no, NO!" He shouted as he tried to fix whatever the problem was.

Just as he was checking the Old Girl's monitors, she landed with yet another crash into parts unknown. He cursed his new legs as they flew from under him upon their harsh landing. His head bounded off of the console's edge and, as he slipped from consciousness, he briefly wondered if it was his vision clouding or was the console room was filling with smoke.

* * *

He awoke to a familiar weight on his chest. Then the other side. A muffled voice told him that it was time to get up. But it was when lips touched his that he gathered the strength for any type of reaction. Her breath forced itself into his lungs and he could taste the sticky sweetness of her lip gloss. It was familiar, yet foreign. Nevertheless, he inhaled her breath, gladly taking what she gave. The Doctor gently nipped at the woman's full bottom lip as she pulled away. Martha gasped and drew back in surprise, then threw her arms around him. "Oh, thank God!" She said in an exasperated sigh.

He eventually made his way to his knees, albeit at an extremely slow pace. He granted her a wide, toothy grin, but she spouted a fresh stream of tears- taking big gulps of air in a futile attempt to keep her eyes dry.

"It's ok… I'm ok." He said, catching his breath.

"But… But I..." Martha struggled with the right words to say. "You regenerated. That means… That means that you died." She sobbed.

"And you, Martha Jones," He started as he got to his feet and walked towards the door. "You left the door open."

He left her on the grated TARDIS floor as she gathered herself. It may have seemed cruel from an outsider's perspective, but it was how they chose to deal after all these years: He knew when she needed to save her dignity and she knew when he needed an escape. He might have had a different face, but he was still The Doctor and she still knew him better than anyone. She knew this not-so-subtle change of subject was code for: "Let's not discuss this just now."

So instead she played along. The subject had officially changed.

"Well, how else was I supposed to air this place out?" She said, getting to her feet. "Besides, you show up here unconscious, with a new face, and the TARDIS all aflame- forgive me if closing the door wasn't my main concern. Ever think of installing… I don't know… extractor fans or something?" He ignored her and closed the door, but mentally logged the idea away for later. It really was a good idea.

"So, new me- I'm still a bit wobbly so let's play a game of catch up." He said rubbing his hands together before setting the TARDIS back into orbit. "First, where is 'here'? And how did you find me?"

"We'll, the TARDIS materialized in my back yard. I assume that covers all of those questions."

_Ah, she brought me to my doctor, clever girl,_ He thought with affection.

It was then that he finally looked at her properly. Her hair was down. He liked when she wore her hair down. She was clad in his old coat; he vaguely remembered leaving it with her last time he saw her- "for safe keeping", he had said at the time, but the way her eyes filled with tears, he was sure she knew that he was dying. On her feet were a pair of pink heels. It wasn't a hot pink or a baby pink, but something in-between. He'd never known her to wear the color and it didn't suit her as well as her usual dark red or black, but the Doctor decided that he liked it anyway.

He was broken from his train of thought when she continued speaking. "Like I said, she was on fire and you were unconscious. So I put out the fires and began CPR."

"How did you know it was me?"

"I always know when it's you, silly!"

At that moment he completely adored her. Of course they were best friends. Of course they were lovers. But with regeneration, there was always a chance that his feelings would change; or that hers would. It was clear to him now that his indeed had not.

"What do you think of the new packaging?"

"Well, you're a bit short." She noted, even though he still towered over her.  
"Oi, you're one to talk!"  
"I didn't say it was a bad thing." She said with a giggle.  
"Hmmm... You're a bit scruffy and that chin is just impossible! Be careful or you're likely to put an eye out!"

She had been slowly making her way toward where he leaned against the console. When she reached him, he instinctively placed his hands on her hips, pulling her closer. He wondered at this for just a moment, how muscle memory could override his newer emerging traits. This train of thought was interrupted by her lips on his. His new shorter height plus her boost from the heels made it a bit easier for her to reach him without his help.

His mouth felt different…tasted different, she noted. Not bad. Just different. Different tongue, different teeth, a different moan when she sucked on his bottom lip. He tasted of custard and something else that she couldn't quite place.

It was a different pressure pushed against her abdomen as he pulled her impossibly closer. But she knew what it meant.

The Doctor broke the kiss, practically ripping his lips from hers. He released her hips and took her hands, leading her down the long corridor to his room. She followed silently. Once there, he released her, simply feeling the heat that was passing between them. He was quickly finding that this most recent incarnation seemed to enjoy sexual tension.

He slid his hands underneath his old coat and pushed it down her shoulders. She let it drop unceremoniously onto the ground, leaving her in a pink lace teddy and those matching heels. "This color... It suits you. It really ... Really..." He trailed off, seemingly hypnotized by the swirling lace. He traced the pattern in some sort of daze. Martha let herself be annihilated by his simple touches, becoming more and more breathless as his long fingers traced the rise of her breasts and swirled around her nipples. He trailed down her stomach and further still, leaving a line of scorching skin underneath the delicate material.

He traced the slightly ruffled edges of the garment from her inner thighs up and around her hips, pointedly avoiding the place where he knew she wanted him to touch the most. His hands met to grip the skin where the fabric disappeared into a point and she moaned as he kneaded the soft flesh of her ass. He pulled her flush against him and smashed his lips to hers. She didn't hesitate when his tongue begged audience with hers. He was hot and hard against her and her body yearned for him, as it always did. It didn't matter that he had a new face- all that mattered was the man underneath.

He walked around her, drinking her in. Martha's skin prickled in anticipation. If she knew anything about the man in the room with her, she knew that he was anything but predictable, especially in his current state. He pulled her against him once more, her back against his chest as he buried his face in her neck. She moaned as he reached around, took her by the jaw and turned her head to the side to gain better access to the soft skin of her neck and shoulder. The other hand gently stroked the lace-clad flesh between her legs, relishing her wetness.

She gasped as his teeth grazed her skin. He could feel her legs quiver from the sensations that he flooded her with as his mouth and fingers continued to work. The Doctor nipped at her earlobe, whispering, "Off" in a tone that she knew was not to be defied. Not that she could at this point; she wanted this as much as he did. She quickly obeyed, sliding the straps down her arms. The lace slipped easily over her skin. She smelled of warm sugar and vanilla and felt like a campfire in a tundra. He wanted to consume her. He wanted to be consumed.

She stepped out of the pink pool of lace at her feet and suddenly felt the chill. Looking behind her, she noticed that he had stepped back, enjoying the view. He examined her with a wild hunger that almost frightened her. It was a feral once over before he was on her again.

He turned her roughly by her waist and picked her up, cradling her ass as he carried her past the bed to the dark wooden desk against the wall. Her arms held him close around the neck as their tongues dueled once more. The Doctor sat her down on the edge of the desk, not bothering to rid it of the papers, pens, and books that adorned it. Martha reached behind her and cleared just enough space to lay back comfortably. The Doctor sat in front of her in the dark leather desk chair with that same feral hunger she'd witnessed moments before. She could see the bulge that pressed against his trousers in sweet anticipation, but he refused to release it. He took her by the ankles and spread her legs wide, revealing her arousal to him.

"Hold them. Don't Move." He commanded in that same quiet, stern voice. Again she obeyed, holding her ankles in the position he had put them. He looked over his handiwork then pushed her legs back more. This new, predatory nature of his would prove to be her undoing, she thought as she waited in her revealing pose.

He dragged his tongue down her inner thigh, then the other, tasting the sweat and adrenaline that seeped through her pores. He landed his tongue between her legs and placed one long lick after another over the hot, wet flesh. Martha moaned loudly and tightened her grip on her ankles.

He made slow circles around the pulsating bud between her legs and she quickly lost control, letting go of her legs to reach for him. Her legs came to rest on his shoulders, but he pushed them roughly back up.

"I said hold them, Miss Jones." He said, nipping at her inner thighs as she took hold of her ankles once again. He continued his ministrations and she held on tight. Until his tongue dove deep into her, causing her to shudder and moan. She lost her grip again.

The Doctor stood up slowly and leaned over her, planting his hands on the desk on either side of her. She was trapped. Not that she'd move anyway. He leaned into her so that their faces were only inches apart. The playful gleam in his eyes and the smirk on his lips belied the dangerous edge in his voice when he spoke.

"Now, Martha Jones. I told you to keep your legs here," He grabbed her ankles and put them back into position.

"But you insist on defying me. Next time they slip, I'll have to tie you down. And when I do, you'll be begging me to let you come." His words caused a fresh pool of moisture to form between her legs. He sank back down into the chair and continued to chip away at her dwindling hold on reality. Soon she was falling and spinning out of control. Almost there. When his slipped two fingers into her molten center, moving them in time with his flickering tongue, she fell apart.

Her legs slipped from her grip and dug deliciously into his back. He groaned in a saccharine mixture of pleasure and pain as the thin, stiletto heels dragged down his back through the tattered shirt, desperately trying to pull him forward. Martha was incoherent at this point, the position of her legs being the last thing on her mind. He continued to drive into her, his fingers and tongue working in unison as they rode the wave of her first orgasm.

He moved away quickly as her orgasm subsided and logic returned. One side of him wanted to carry her to the bed and finally claim her completely in his new form, but that would have to wait. He had a threat to keep.

* * *

**Let me know what you think! Review, guys!**

**xoxo, LPL**


	7. Bring Me Back To Life P2

**...Back to Life [Part II]**

* * *

_One side of him wanted to carry her to the bed and finally claim her completely in his new form, but that would have to wait. He had a threat to keep._

And keep it he did.

"I warned you. I told you what would happen if you disobeyed me." He said, retrieving one of the thousands of blue and brown ties from his vast closet. Martha looked up and noticed that the tattered tie he had been wearing around his neck had been removed as well.

"Now, you must suffer the consequences."

The Doctor proceeded to follow through with his threat, using the neckties to bind each of her wrists to her ankles- her arms and legs spread wide. She was truly incapacitated: where ever she moved one limb, the other would follow. It was an awkward position, but it gave him access to every part of her. No matter how hard she pulled against her restraints, the ties wouldn't give- in fact, the harder she pulled, the tighter they got.

The Doctor continued his onslaught; biting, pinching, caressing and licking her relentlessly. He used his hands and tongue to send her stumbling to the edge, then pulled her back- keeping her just a breath away from orgasm. After what seemed like hours, she was screaming his name and arching against him, begging him for release. He gladly acquiesced, and she came harder and longer than she ever had. But then again, time had lost all relevance long ago.

* * *

With a tenderness he's been devoid of when he'd been torturing her not five minutes before, he untied her limbs and discarded the silky fabric onto the floor.

"You alright?" He asked, massaging her aching hips.

"God, yes!" She breathed as she came down from her high. "Doctor, that was amazing!"

"And that's just the beginning." He warned as he guided her legs back together.

She hissed in pleasure as shock waves coursed through her tiny frame; she was still recuperating from their last foray and the pressure of her legs shut tight, squeezing the sensitive bud between her legs was almost too much to bear.

By this time, The Doctor was aching to be inside of her . He'd let the tension inside of him build to dangerous levels with no relief; not one stroke or brush of his fingertips or even a grind against the desk. He had denied himself these pleasures, but he'd been patient long enough.

She must have read his mind, because at that moment she suddenly slipped off of the desk, took his hands, and walked him to the bed. He strolled behind her, letting himself be led. It was then that he noticed it: Hanging down her back, small and inconspicuous on a fine golden chain was the TARDIS key. It hovered right in front of the small of her back, and he could see the imprint that it made in her skin. He reckoned that it must have gotten turned around somehow, somewhere between bringing him back to life and being tied-down and ravaged on his desk.

She pushed him gently onto the bed. Martha's nimble fingers quickly undid the buttons of his shirt before pushing him back further to do the same to his trousers. Before long, the entirety of his outfit accompanied hers on the floor. She raised up slowly, teasing him a bit before sliding down onto him with a low, sweet moan, which he returned in kind. His hands made their way to her hips, guiding her rhythm as she rolled her hips on top of him. It felt like he'd been waiting for this for lifetimes. He'd had her many times before, and he'd had hundreds of others before her, but this was so different from any other time. Every cell in his body was brand new and he was feeling everything for the first time- Every sensation was heightened, every ounce of control- shattered. He renewed his grip on her hips and trust into her with a ferocity that ensured a quick release.

She lurched forward with the effort and planted her hands firmly on his chest. The second thrust sent her forward again, and as she steadied herself against him, the thin chain fell across her shoulder. A third thrust sent the key the rest of the way around to the front. The very tip of the key rested on his chest and he stilled- stilling her as well. It hung innocently between them, barely touching him but he shuddered at the contact.

"What's the matter?" She asked, concerned at his sudden change in demeanor. He didn't answer, but he moved her slowly, guiding her back and forth on top of him. The key swung pendulum-like over his chest, each time painting him with ultraviolet brush strokes. Every time the small metal point dragged across him, his flesh tingled with a sweet burning sensation that spread through him like a merciless, all-consuming fire. He moaned loudly at the feeling and it only took Martha a few moments to figure out that the key was what caused the change. She rocked against him faster, causing the offending article to move with more force. He was sent rocketing toward his orgasm as she pulsed around him and the key continued to send volts of pleasure to every nerve in his body. It was almost too much.

He crushed her to him, holding her in place as he kissed her hungrily. The key rested between them, pressed between dark and light flesh. He tightened his grip on her, keeping her and the key still while he ravaged her from underneath. He called out her name as his orgasm ripped through him and into her. She came for the third time that night with little more than a strained whimper, completely spent.

* * *

They laid there for many long minutes while they came down from the Earth-shattering orgasm that had overtaken them.

"So," He started. "What was with the outfit? I mean, don't get me wrong. I loved it, but I've never seen it."

"I was going to surprise Tom when he came home from the late shift. He likes pink."

"Great taste, that one." He knew he should have felt guilty, but he it was an emotion that he couldn't muster at this particular time; he didn't regret for a minute what had happened that night.

She fingered the key that now rested on her chest. "Who knew this thing had so many uses…" She said absently.

"I'm actually surprised that you still have it."

"Well, what else would I do with it? Sell it on Ebay?"

He just chuckled at the thought. _What else could she do with it?_

"Besides, working for the government, you'd be surprised how often a perception filter might come in handy."

Suddenly, he sat straight up. "Say that again."

"What? About the perception filter?"

"Martha Jones, I could bloody kiss you!" And he did; a long, deep kiss that left her breathless not for the first time that night.

He launched into the story of Amelia Pond as he hastily pulled on his tattered clothing. She listened intently as she pulled on her clothes as well.

"I knew something was off. And now, thanks to you, I know what."

"Wait a minute, Doctor. She's a child! She's only eight years old. You can't possibly think of taking her with you."

"Why not? I'm great with kids!"

"Doctor, think about it. Just hear me out. Think of all the things we get into. Think of all the danger we often end up in- intentional and unintentional. Do you really think that this life is conducive for raising a human child? What if you need saving by someone with a bit more _life experience._ Or if something happens to her? You're not equipped to have a minor as your companion. And what of her family? Doctor this isn't a good idea at all."

"Well, I'll just have to be very careful about where we go. I'll calibrate the Helmic, and take her nav system off Random Mode, make sure the shields are up-"

"Doctor, NO!" Matha said sternly. She wouldn't let him make such a dangerous decision. "Why don't you just set the TARDIS for a later date? Go back when she's a bit older, yeah?"

"OR, you could just come with us. I know I could count on you to keep us both in line." He helped her into his old coat and dragged her into the console room.

"No, Doctor. No minors on the TARDIS and that's my final opinion. Now, take me home and go make things right."

She ran her hand along the console and said quietly: "Take me home, girl." The Doctor flipped the proper switches and sent them flying back to Martha's house. Once they landed, the Doctor informed her that she was back home, exactly one minute after they originally dematerialized.

"Still planning on surprising Mr. Milligan?" He said slyly as he watched her walk unsteadily out of the doors.

"Shut it." Martha snapped playfully as they shared a long kiss goodbye. "The surprise is just going to have to wait. There'll be other nights. I'll have to make it up to him some other time because I'm bloody well spent. You be good, and remember: Do NOT bring that girl onto the TARDIS until she's of age." She called to him before slipping into her flat.

"Ah… one trip won't be so bad. Right girl?" He could almost feel the old machine scoffing. Of course, he was planning on ignoring Martha's sensible instructions. "Alright. Five minutes later."

He ran out of the doors, determined to save Amelia Pond from this Prisoner Zero and whatever he was hiding behind that perception filter. He was met quite promptly with the business end of a cricket bat. When he came to, face to face with a defiant, disobedient redhead, he couldn't help but to fear for the little girl's life. It was only later that he discovered that even though he didn't intend on following Martha's directions, the TARDIS did.

* * *

**I like to think that the TARDIS is more in control than our favorite Time Lord would have us believe. Review guys! Tell me what you think!**

**xoxo,LPL**


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